Poem

When a touchstone touches a metal,
It becomes a piece of gold,
When a butterfly sits on a rose petal,
It becomes unusually bold,
When a King only kisses his Queen,
She says, it’s not adequate,
When Ghalib winks an eye at a teen,
Everyone becomes a poet,
There are thousand more fine things
Yet to be heard and seen,
Before we go to Paradise that brings
For all of us divine green.